


Midnight Snack

by FlorianKnox



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 19:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19482442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorianKnox/pseuds/FlorianKnox
Summary: Rukia was tired. Worn down, after a month of sleepless nights and decades of guilt trying to catch up with her. Who could blame her, if she wanted a distraction? Who could blame her, if she got a little hungry? Who could blame her, if she started craving strawberry?





	Midnight Snack

It was well past midnight when Rukia Kuchiki threw her head back against the lumpy, rolled up sweatshirt she was using as a pillow and sighed. Another late night out on patrol with Ichigo, another hollow exorcised, another day that blurred together with all the other days that she was stranded in the living world.

Almost a month had passed since the night that she had lost her powers. Almost a month, she’d been squatting in a glorified cupboard. Almost a month since she’d had a good night’s sleep.

It wasn’t for lack of trying- she had tossed and turned and counted enough sheep to feed the Rukongai twice over. But every time she closed her eyes, a thousand thoughts, a thousand regrets flickered behind her eyelids. The room was cold- too cold, with no bedlinen and only Yuzu’s thin cotton pyjamas to insulate her- but her body burned with guilt. It took hours each night, but eventually she burnt herself out and managed to drift away.

That’s when the nightmares started.

Monsters and phantoms replayed scenes from her past over and over again, shocking her awake twice an hour. She was back in the Rukongai, burying the first friends she’d ever known. She was back in the academy, alone again amidst a sea of strangers who heard her last name and thought they knew her.

She was back in that clearing, Kaien’s arms around her while his blood coated her hands.

So it went. Over and over, again and again, night after night. What little sleep she got was far from restful, leaving her a groggy, grumpy mess when dawn broke only a few hours later. A facet of her personality she was sure did not endear her to the human boy whose closet she had annexed, but given it was his fault she was in this situation, she rather thought it served him right.

Well, she thought, that’s not entirely fair. He was abrasive. He was hotheaded. But despite a rocky start and a bad attitude, Ichigo Kurosaki had proven himself time and again. Beneath it all, he was kind. He was valiant. He was-

Whump whump whump whump

Wait, what was that noise? No, it couldn’t be-

But as the rhythmic thumping continued, there was no denying what it was. Rukia felt heat burning up her cheeks as she realised that separated only by the slats of his wardrobe, Ichigo was absolutely, definitely masturbating.

She jerked as she felt something brush against her clit and realised her hand had somehow snaked its way beneath the elastic waistband of her borrowed pyjamas. Mmmmmmmmmm. The tension bled from her shoulders and neck like ink into water, leaving her floating in a haze of relaxation that was too seductive for her weary mind to resist. Without her conscious direction, her body moved beneath her. Her knees drifting further apart. The small of her back arching ever so subtly upwards. Her butt shifting slightly so that she was in the most comfortable position. Her body opened itself up, so that her fingers could work unimpeded.

“This is a huge mistake,” she reprimanded herself in a breathless whisper. But still, she craned her neck to peer through the slats of the wardrobe. The room was dark, a vista of blacks and greys lit only by the grainy light of a far off streetlamp. The pounding of her heartbeat was deafening as Ichigo pumped his cock, utterly unaware he was being watched. At some point she had forgotten to swallow. With her free hand, Rukia wiped away a line of drool from the corner of her mouth. God, she wanted it so bad. Just how long had it been since she’d cum? A month? Two? Long enough that her need was overpowering, her body taking matters into its own hands in spite of her protesting mind.

While one hand ran electrifying circles around her clit, the other fussed with her button-down pyjama shirt. It was slow going, but taking her hand off her clit was absolutely out of the question. Finally, the last button slipped free and her meagre chest was bared to the cold night air. Only by biting down on her lower lip could she keep from gasping as her fingernails scraped across one of her nipples, stiffening both from the cold and her arousal.

Oh, fuck. She tasted blood but couldn’t bring herself to care. With each circle her hand rubbed around her clit, a fresh wave of tingles danced across her skin. With each pinch, with each pull on her nipples, she grew closer and closer to satisfaction. It was so good. It was so wrong. It was so fucking amazing.

But it wasn’t enough. With herculean effort, she pulled her hand away from its desperate work, feeling her sweaty palm pulling against the tangled mess of her pubes as she guided her fingers down. Her labia was swollen with lust as she traced her fingers up and down her slit, caressing her outer lips with a tenderness that belied her need. When she took her fingers away, a strand of nectar tied them to her aching cunt, as though desperate to reel them back in and have them finish her off.

She almost did. But a voice in the back of her sleep deprived mind stayed her hand. He’s right there, it whispered. Her heart beat in time with the rhythmic thumping from the bed, her pussy _dripped_ as she imagined what he would feel like inside of her-

Wait, what?

Rukia blinked. She wasn’t actually considering this, was she? He was a human- and a child, besides! A finger slipped between her folds. Their bodies may have been similar in age, but she had decades on him. Her finger stroked the roof of her cunt in a come-hither motion. Decades of experience, decades of baggage. A second finger joined the first. Not to mention their working relationship- she was charged with the protection of Karakura Town and had already failed it once, when she lost her powers. She stroked herself in time with Ichigo, imagining it was him fucking her. Ichigo was her only method of slaying hollows, she couldn’t afford to jeopardise that with an intimate entanglement. She wanted it- but she couldn’t. She needed it- but she shouldn’t.

And then Ichigo groaned and made her decision for her.

* * *

The soft clattering of the wardrobe opening was like a thunderclap.

“Rukia!” Ichigo panicked, somewhere between a shout and a whisper. His eyes bulged in a mixture of terror and embarrassment as he groped for his bedsheets to cover himself. But something stayed his hands. Maybe he saw the way Rukia’s nipples jutted out past the fabric of her pyjama shirt, hanging loose down her shoulders. Maybe he saw the way her fingers glistened in the light of the streetlamp, and smelled her sex upon her. Maybe he saw the sway of her hips as she prowled towards him. Or maybe he just saw the hunger in her eyes.

“Shhh,” Rukia whispered, placing a finger over Ichigo’s lips and smearing them with her juices. A shiver ran down her spine as his tongue darted out and tasted her finger. He was far gentler than she expected of him as he drew her finger into his mouth, tenderly sucking up to the base of her knuckle. The fire between her legs burnt hot as he released her with a small pop, and she felt something wet running down her thigh as she saw her own lust reflected in his eyes.

He began to prop himself up on the bed, not expecting Rukia’s palm on his chest to throw him back into the mattress. Before he could protest she was straddling him, sitting with her cunt grinding against his stomach and his cock pressing into her back. She rocked her hips experimentally, leaking a trail of wetness onto his stomach as she slid across his abdominal muscles, each bump sending shockwaves pulsing out from her clit and radiating across her entire body.

With a predatory growl Rukia lifted her hips and eased herself backwards. Ichigo groaned beneath her as she sat on him, sandwiching his straining cock between his abs and her cunt. She couldn’t help but smirk as his eyes shot open and his fingers clenched around the bedsheets. Mmm, that was a good expression. Emboldened by his reaction Rukia kept moving her hips, unable to stop herself from moaning as she slid her hungry cunt along the length of his cock. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, her wetness coated his entire shaft as he twitched and writhed beneath her. She found herself gasping with each roll of her hips as her own yearning intensified. As her pussy screamed to be filled.

As fun as it was to watch the human squirm, she needed that cock inside her.

Sliding forwards, the furthest she had been yet, she found the head of his cock slick with a mixture of their fluids. She gave it a quick tug, feeling him _pulse_ between her fingers with a moan, before reaching down and taking hold of his shaft. She raised her body, ignoring the protestations of her horny clit and angled him juuuuust right.

Oh, _fuck!_

She almost screamed as she swallowed the tip of his cock, her legs trembling as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her.One by one, the nerve endings in her pussy began to burn white-hot as her aching, her yearning for cock gave way to the mouth-watering, mind-bubbling sensation of being filled. It was everything she thought it would be. It was like nothing she’d ever imagined. The only thing that kept her legs from giving out on her was the knowledge that if she collapsed, if she fell and impaled herself utterly on that cock, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from cumming.

She wasn’t the only one, if Ichigo’s gasping beneath her was any indication. His eyes were half-lidded and unfocused as he stared up at her, his hair sticky with sweat and his mouth open in a breathless pant. The only thing that felt better than easing herself down to the base of his shaft was watching the look on his face and knowing that it belonged to her.

After taking a moment to acclimatise herself to the sensations, Rukia began to move. Slowly, inch by mind-numbing inch, she lowered herself onto him. Then, when she ran out of cock, she began to rise. Up and down her well-oiled cunt glided around his shaft, each motion of her hips sending her mind careening off into the stratosphere. She planted her hands on Ichigo’s chest, feeling the warmth of his body like sherbet tingling on her fingers as she fucked herself insensate on his cock. Letting the slapping of her ass on his thighs and the wet, sucking noises of her pussy drown out her thoughts. Who cared about sleep? Who cared about regrets? What did that matter, compared to the syrupy pressure bubbling beneath her skin?

She lost herself in the rhythm of her body, her world shrinking down until the only thing that existed was that sweet, bubbling sensation. She was like a pot on the stove and her pussy was the burner. Only moments ago, it had been bearable. Tiny little bubbles of tingling pleasure spiralling out from her clit, popping against her skin, fizzing around her brain. Now she was at a rolling boil, her body wracked by violent bubbles of ecstasy that fought and jostled against each other in their rampage across her nervous system. The pressure built up inside her until it threatened to burst as she desperately bucked her hips, grinding her clit against his body and taking that straining cock so that it rubbed her right _there-_

If she could stop panting long enough to breath, she would have screamed as another burner exploded into action around her chest, sending another swirl of orgasmic torture careening around her body. Her head lolled to the side as she was suddenly bombarded from two fronts. From between the stars swimming in front of her vision, Rukia watched as Ichigo sucked tenderly at a nipple, rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger.

The sight was enough that she boiled over, the pressure ramping and ramping to a desperate, lusty crescendo. Her body twitched and convulsed as the orgasm overwhelmed her body, riding the waves as they washed over her again and again and again. Everywhere that had been scalded by the heat and pressure of those violent bubbles was now pure, toe-curling ecstasy. As though the heat had scrubbed away the accumulated tension and descaled her of heartache and regret, leaving her tender and raw when the orgasm hit. She felt its warmth like a caress in every inch of her mind and body, then felt a warmth of a different kind as Ichigo arched his back beneath her.

They stayed like that for a moment. Him panting up at her. Her smirking down at him. Then exhaustion struck her like a physical blow. Her head spun as she almost toppled off Ichigo, hitting the sweat-soaked mattress with a sigh. Pulling the ruined elastic of her pyjama pants up from where they’d been stretched around her ankles, she crawled beneath the covers and struck the final blow. Ichigo squirmed in protest as she latched herself to him, holding him so tightly that her face pressed against his bare chest. He was damp and stank of sweat, but she didn’t mind. She was asleep before she even closed her eyes.

When she dreamed, she dreamed of him. When she woke, she woke refreshed.

* * *

“Ichigo,” Isshin’s voice was uncharacteristically hard and as sharp as any zanpakuto, “we need to talk about these stains on your sister’s clothes.”


End file.
